


Trouble

by bashbabe



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Blood, But only a little, Fights, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Spot, Italian Racetrack Higgins, One Shot, Swearing, Violence, also yes this is based off of 92sies, genderfluid spot conlon, race is a little shit, spot is freaking out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 19:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15322503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashbabe/pseuds/bashbabe
Summary: Spot Conlon was in trouble. Between the unconscious body on the ground and  her bruised, bloodied knuckles, she knew there was no way she was getting out of this, especially since her goddamn guilty conscience wouldn’t let her just leave him there and go.





	Trouble

Spot Conlon was in trouble. Between the unconscious body on the ground and her bruised, bloodied knuckles, she knew there was no way she was getting out of this, especially since her goddamn guilty conscience wouldn’t let her just leave him there and go. At least she thought it was a guy. She wasn’t going to assume.

The guy in question was tall and distinctly Italian, with curly black hair and nice clothes. Oh, and he was knocked out. She really hadn’t meant to hit him that hard, it just kind of… happened. She just hoped he wouldn’t call the police. Medda and Denton would kill her, and she couldn’t risk getting pulled from her current home. She had it too good where she was.

She couldn’t even remember how the fight had started. She remembered getting into a screaming match with the cocky guy at the table behind hers at the bar and then inviting him to take it outside. Obviously, he had accepted. Wrong choice on his part, really. But how was he supposed to know she knew how to fight? Besides, he was a lot bigger than her, so she shouldn’t have been able to do any real damage. Spot just got a lucky hit in. One that knocked him out.

She tipped her head back until it hit the bricks behind her and slid down until she was sitting on the ground next to the guy. She watched his chest move steadily and was glad she hadn’t done anything worse than knock him out. But she could have given him a concussion. She wouldn’t be able to know that until he woke up. Letting out a groan, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop both her tears and the shaking in her hands. Jesus, she really hadn’t meant for this to happen.

“Given the circumstances, shouldn’t I be the one groaning?” Spot’s eyes shot open and she was on her feet in a flash. Italian guy had woken up during her little breakdown and was now twisted to face her, leaning on an elbow to prop his upper body up. He wore a look _way_ too cocky for someone in his situation and looked more like he had just won a poker hand by bluffing instead of looking like he had just woken up from being knocked out. By someone half his size.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Spot kneeled next to him and pushed him back down so he was laying on his back. “You could have a concussion, you could have hit your head wrong, holy shit what if you have paralysis, oh my god you have to lay back down holy shit.” The guy just grinned at her.

“Ya know, I wouldn’t have expected the person that knocked me out to be so concerned about my well-being.” She wanted to punch him again. _Jesus_ , this guy was annoying. No wonder she had started throwing punches.

“That was-” She clenched her hands into fists. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He just laughed from his position on the ground, his arms coming up so he could cross them behind his head and lay on them.

“Mhmm. _Surrree_.” He grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “If I’m being honest, I would have punched myself too. I can’t even remember what we were fighting about but I was probably being an asshole.” Spot let out a breath. So he didn’t know what they were fighting about, either. That made this situation a little less stressful. Maybe they could both forget about it and move on with their lives.

“Well, I can’t say you’re wrong. How are you feeling?” She got out her phone flashlight and shined it in his eyes to check his reaction times. Thank god for being a lifeguard at the lake four summers in a row.

“I’m peachy. Can you help me up now?” He held his hand out, his arm extended. Spot stood up fully before pulling him to his feet. There Spot stood, shifting her weight from foot to foot and not really knowing how to proceed. Finally, the boy in front of her spoke.

“I’m Race, by the way.” He put his hand out, and she shook it.

“I’m Spot. Sorry about the whole, uh, ‘knocking you out’ thing.” He shrugged.

“It’s no big deal. I’ve had worse. Also, there is no way that’s your real name.” Spot crossed her arms.

“And there’s no way ‘Race’ is yours.” “Touche.”

Spot reached for her phone in her back pocket. “I still feel really bad. Is there any way I can make it up to you?” Race smirked.

“I’m free today, if you want to buy me coffee.” Spot smiled, but only just a little.

“Yeah, I’m uh, free.”

“Good. I’m going to need at _least_ a venti frap to recover from that hit. You punch like hell.” Spot laughed. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on my tumblr (@king-of-brookklyn) after answering an ask got out of hand. basically, they asked for spot after a fight, and of course my brain went, "yes, this is a good way for your OTP to meet." don't forget to leave comments and kudos if you liked it bc i am in desperate need of validation :)))))


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